


Short layovers & caught connections

by JoCarthage



Series: Long distances and close calls (2020 phone banking accountability fic series) [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27014692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoCarthage/pseuds/JoCarthage
Summary: Alex and Michael connect during a short layover.--This is a fic series where, after each day of phone banking for the democratic ticket in the US's 2020 presidential election, I will write a fic that's 10x the number of calls I made. So if I make 14 calls, I write and post a 140 word fic. If I make 27 calls, a 270 word fic. If you'd like to start phone banking, you can sign-up for a good, comprehensive training here: https://demvolctr.org. One of my friends from high school is one of the trainers. The training is 40 minutes, then 40 minutes of making practice calls, then 15 minutes of debrief.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Long distances and close calls (2020 phone banking accountability fic series) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970539
Comments: 20
Kudos: 72





	Short layovers & caught connections

**Author's Note:**

> I made 70 calls into Florida today, for a total of 114 calls so far. For the other people phone banking -- if you are open to sharing your number of calls/texts/postcards (either total, per week, per day) and if my style of writing is your jam, let me know what kind of fic you'd like in the comments or on tumblr (http://jocarthage.tumblr.com) and I'll try to write you a one-shot!

Michael closed his eyes, twisting his hand in the hot morning wind out his window as he drove out on I-285. It was six hours to Denver; well, it was now he'd been driving for an hour.

His phone buzzed on the bench seat and, with no one else on the road, he floated it up to the steering wheel, flipping it open to read the message:

> **A:** Thru security. Want to keep me company while I get a bagel?

Michael had pressed the green dial button before he'd finished reading the message.

Alex picked up, voice sleepy and a little tense: "Hey,"

"Hey," Michael said, pressing the phone to his cheek. "How was your flight?"

"Mmm," Alex said, voice cutting out as a security announcement blared through the Dulles domestic terminal. "Loud, cramped, chilly."

Michael looked out the window to the rolling sage-scape, the desert twisting itself into curves and gullies before flattening out against the imperfect blue sky. "So, pretty much the opposite of here."

"Yeah," Alex said, voice soft, like he was cradling the phone. Michael wondered if his hair had gotten long, like on his last deployment, or if he'd kept it to regulation like the one before that. He cranked the window up so he could hear him better.

"What kind of bagel you getting?"

"Everything bagel with onions and lox and cream cheese and capers."

"Eww," Michael said, mouth twisting, "You brought a toothbrush, right?"

There was a staticky pause and Michael wondered if this was it, if this was the moment Alex couldn't handle what it took to push open the door of his closet long enough to let Michael in for these brief, soul-scrapingly brief, visits between tours. Would Alex snap at him, tell him to mind his own business, or change flights, or tell him to turn around, or --

There was a low chuckle: "That's not all I brought."

Michael took a quick breath, yanking himself into the same teasing register as Alex: "Oh yeah?"

"I had a long layover in Germany. I took the train into Berlin and went to a shop."

Michael could feel a smile rising: "What kind of shop, Alex?"

Alex's voice was prim: "You'll just have to find out. Wait, one sec, I need to order."

But Alex didn't hangup, he just pressed his phone to his chest, the uniform fabric scratching at the receiver. Michael lost a minute there, mind drifting to the motel they'd met-up in in San Antonio 6 months ago. Michael had woken up every morning with his ear pressed to Alex's chest, counting his breaths, checking his heartbeat, just living for and in the constant reminder: _I'm here, I'm safe, I'm yours._

"Sorry about that, love," Alex said, and Michael felt his stomach flip. They -- they couldn't talk this way, on the rare calls Alex made to him on base. They were all _''sup, bro,'_ no tortured lust.

Certainly no 'love.'

"Anyway," Alex continued, as if he hadn't just launched Michael into orbit, "It's in my checked luggage, so unless some TSA stasi decided to take a freebie, I can show you as soon as we get settled." There was a crinkle that must have been a bagel bag.

"I look forward to it." Michael said. Then he checked the time: "Hey, you should get to your gate, your flight takes off in 45 minutes, they're probably already in preferred boarding." This was the language of long distance love he'd learned, layover times and gate swapping, preferred boarding and USO lounges.

"Oh shit, you're right. What would I do without you?" He heard Alex heft his massive military backpack and start to hustle to the gate.

Michael wasn't sure if Alex even had his phone to his ear anymore when he said half to himself: "You'd be just fine without me."

And the sound stopped, the rushing air past Alex's microphone halting like a dawn forced-march called off. His voice was clear, crystal water to Michael's parched soul: "No, Michael. I wouldn't." A long breath. "I'll see you in 5 and a half hours."

Michael sucked in a breath through a suddenly hot, tight throat: "See you soon."

He kept driving.

**Author's Note:**

> Top quotes from today's phone banking:  
> \- Kathryn (FL), on why she's supporting Biden: "I would never support the other one, he's wacky. He's out of his gourd. I've never understood him."  
> \- Katrina (FL), on why she's not voting for Trump: "I'm actually a registered Republican, but I can't stand that man."


End file.
